Wiki-6

Wiki 6 - Page 2
Wiki posting #6
Post the beginning of your short story from in-class activity. Due week of 4/23.


There was once a town named Soledad (Spanish for land of the lonely). Soledad is a small bleak, run downed town with little opportunities for anyone to prosper. The towns-people do not know the meaning of success, education, money or future. They live in the here and now. There is no need for those things because working the fields and hunting animals is the only thing needed for survival. The people from Soledad don’t like change and don’t like different; anything different is looked down upon and exiled. The heavily overpopulated Anglo Saxon’s in this small tight-nit community highly disliked minorities and treat them as less then animals. Although a lot of the adults had the same mindset about minorities their children did not. They didn’t see the outside of each other’s skin, all they saw was a friend they can have fun with and confide in. I this little town lived four little boys who were forced to hide their friendship because of the fear of what may happen if the adult found out. They were two white boys named Josh and Mike, and two Mexican boys named Pablo and Juan. They had the greatest time when they were together; it seemed almost perfect when they would hide in the woods to play their favorite game of cops and robbers. Just as the sun was coming down and the night was approaching Pablo started talking about how great it would be if they no longer had to hide their friendship, if they could just move somewhere where race did not matter. All they boys cheered and agreed with Pablo! Juan: “yeah, I feel the same way!” Mike: “YEAH!” Josh: “That’s right!” Pablo said ‘I know of a train track that can take us far away; far away to a town where small things like this didn’t matter!! who wants to find that place with me!” (Pablo said in excitement). The boys looked hesitant at first but agreed and cheered in happiness! They ran home, got as much food and water as possible and ran to the train tracks Pablo was talking about. They all stepped inside the railroad car and started a new chapter in their lives. THE END (Enrique Silva)


Under the Rug
There once lived an old grumpy man named Ralph who lived in a little tiny blue house. Even though he was grumpy he loved that house so much! He kept his house very clean and neat and never invited anyone over because he was afraid that they would make his house dirty!

One day he decided to take a walk to see his friend George (George was just as grumpy). He left his house knowing that it was going to stay very neat for when he returned home. But when Ralph came home from seeing George, he found that his house was a mess and everything was thrown on the floor! “Who did this?” Ralph said with anger in his voice! Even though he didn’t know who made his house a mess, he cleaned it up and went to bed.

Two weeks passed and it happened again…

Ralph went to visit his friend George and when he came back, two weeks later, it all happened again! His books from his bookshelf were on the floor, his lamp had fallen over and someone had been sitting in his chair!

Ralph was curious as to how his house was becoming messy when there was no one there, so the next day he decided to hide outside his house to see who was coming into his house and making it messy. As Ralph is hiding behind his window, he hears his lamp fall onto the ground. So he runs into the house, grabs a broom and starts hitting this lump that is hiding under his rug.

He whacks it and whacks it and tries to kill it! But, the mysterious creature got away.

Two weeks passed and it happened again…

Ralph had gone to visit his friend George, and it happened again! His house was a mess! Ralph scratched his head with confusion, but decided to get rid of his carpet and rugs and put in hardwood floors. Just a few short days later, Ralph sees what was making his house dirty. There was a Zebra hiding in the closet and was trying to find food every time Ralph left his house!

Ralph was puzzled at how the Zebra got into his house, but decided to keep the Zebra as his pet and named it Pat. Pat and Ralph became best friends.

The End.
(Chris Park)


Under the Rug
It was a typical Friday night for Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith was a lonely man he never got married, is an only child, and had lost both his parents to cancer. He lived an old house with out dated furniture. He was a lawyer and usually took Fridays off, today was no different. He woke up and got ready to go golfing, like he always does.
When Mr. Smith got home from golf, his mind preoccupied by the horrible score he got on the course, he put away his clubs and went into the kitchen. He poured himself a glass or scotch, went up the creaking stairs and took a shower.
When Mr. Smith came back down stair with book in hand, Mr. Smith was ready to relax. With his surprise he saw a huge lump under the rug. He doesn’t usually drink but he knew it couldn’t have been the scotch making him see things. He didn’t know what to do; he was frightened to lift the carpet he couldn’t image what could be under his living room area rung.
Mr. Smith sat in his reading chair and tried to ignore the lump in his rug, but then he noticed it slowly moving. He couldn’t ignore it any longer. Mr. Smith finally lifted the rug. To his surprise he found his pet turtle Joe. (Heather Poochigian)

Mr. Linden’s Library
I hated house sitting for my neighbor, Mr. Linden, but Mom always made me. She would always say, “Anabelle, Mr. Linden is our neighbor and we have to be helpful with our neighbors.” Mr. Linden never even paid me, but here I am walking through the thick snow to his cabin hidden in the woods. We live in a small town near Yosemite National Forest, and there aren’t many people or houses nearby, which is why Mr. Linden always asks me to watch his house while he goes on vacation.
The cold air stings my cheeks as I walk through the snow. This is the worst blizzard I have ever seen, and finding Mr. Linden’s cabin in the thick snowfall is challenging. As I make my way up his snow-covered driveway, I rummage through my bag to retrieve the keys to his cabin. His cabin is so creepy, and every time I stay the night there and housesit for him, strange things happen. Mr. Linden’s cabin is filled with mounted animal heads and the smell of pine trees fills the stale air. One of the only things I love about house sitting for Mr. Linden, is browsing through his enormous library, even though he’s warned me to stay out of his library, or else. There’s nothing to do in his house, and he doesn’t even have a TV. I don’t know how he expects me to sit here for hours and do nothing. I’ve told my mother how bored I get when I housesit, so she’s made me bring along my own books, but there’s something about Mr. Linden’s collection that entices me. His office is filled with bookcases stacked from wall to wall, and there’s a large red book that’s kept on the very top shelf in a glass case.
“Why is it the only book kept in the case?” I wondered. I remembered what he said, so I walked off to the kitchen to distract myself. I boiled some milk to make myself some hot chocolate. When I was pouring the steaming milk into my mug, a large “BANG” came from the library. I jumped and almost spilled my hot chocolate all over myself. I tiptoed quietly in fear towards the dark library, and quickly flicked the light switch on and covered my eyes. As I uncovered my face, I looked around and there was nothing to be seen, nothing out of pla--.
I froze when I noticed that the large red book was misplaced. I looked around to find it knocked over on the floor. I slowly walked over to the book and picked it up. The title read, FEAR. Why fear? “What kind of title is that?” I thought to myself.
I decided to open and read the book, because after all, it wasn’t a coincidence that the mysterious book that I’ve had my eye on for the past year, had fallen off of the shelf. As I opened the cover, the room began to shake profusely. My hands trembled in fear. I closed my eyes and screamed for my mom, even though I knew she’d never hear me down the road. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in the middle of an enchanted forest. “Am I dreaming?” I wondered aloud. Before I could speak another word, an enormous giant stomped through the tall trees right towards me. I tried to run away, but he grabbed me by the arm and lifted me up into the air.
He asked me, “Why are you in my forest?”
I answered, “Where am I? I was in Mr. Linden’s library, and now im….”
“Aaah, Mr. Linden. I know why you’re here,” the giant boomed.
“Why?” I asked.
“In order to return to his library, you must overcome your greatest, and darkest fears,” the giant whispered.
“I’m not afraid of anything!” I screamed.
“I disagree, little girl. You see, the forbidden book in Mr. Linden’s library only chooses people who have great fears. I presume you are deeply afraid of something, and the book has chosen wisely,” said the giant.
As the giant set me on the ground, he muttered under his breath, “He had warned her about the book. Now it’s too late.”
“Too late? Late for what?” I pondered out loud.
I must figure out how to overpower this book so I can return home immediately. There was only one way to get out of this nightmare, and that was to face my greatest fear. But what was it? I’d have to find out if I ever wanted to return home. [Gabby Clyde]


Another Place another Time
“If there was an answer, he’d find it there.” John, a slim man in his late forties, was a desperate father of two young boys. He was on a quest to find the answer to his poverty. He had been poor all his life, but now that he was a father and a husband, he seen poverty in a different light. His two boys were becoming pale, and each day more fragile due to malnourishment. His wife was thin and frail, her ribs visible through her roguish long flower dress. John was weak too, but that didn’t stop him from going out every day to look for a job. Each day he came home empty handy, nobody wanted to hire a weak, low skill, uneducated man. His two sons begged for food that he couldn’t provide. John's heart sunk and tears rolled out his eyes every time he looked at he’s starving children and his wife.
One morning John woke up determined to find an answer to overcome his poverty. He demanded for his wife and kids to each pack up a backpack. They follow his instructions not knowing for sure what John was up to. Once they were all packed they walked for about two hours to a train station. The train tracks were built with strong solid rocks and wood. The train route went right across the deep waters of the ocean. Not knowing for sure where the train would take them. They boarded and headed to the unknown. They rode the train for three long days eating nothing but can beans and water. When the train reached its final stop, the family got off tired, hungry, and anxious to see what this town they had landed on had to offer. As soon as they started walking they noticed a lot of lights, warehouses, big houses; the town looked promising. John’s eyes sparkled; had he finally found the answer he was looking for? As they walked through the street, an older lady with grayish hair was sitting outside a big house. The house almost looked like a castle compared to the little shags back at home. The lady greeted them kindly and asked where they were headed. One of John’s sons answered; we don’t know. She looked at the children and asked if they were hungry. The children’s eyes sparkle as they timidly answered, yes. The lady asked them to please come in her house, and the family humbly agreed. They entered the big beautiful house, and the lady prompted them to sit on this huge dining table. She brought fresh fruit, ham, apple cider, bread, and mashed potatoes. The family had not seen this much food in years. They feast upon the food and once they were done they said thank you and headed out the door. The kind lady said to wait you guys don’t have to leave stay here I have this huge house all to myself, and I get lonely, you guys are welcome to stay as long as you guys want. The family smiled and agreed to stay, since they had nowhere else to sleep. In the morning, the when they woke up the lady had cooked breakfast for them. As they ate John asked the lady if she knew of any place where he could find work. He said he was willing to do any job in order to support his family. The lady told him she had a friend who owned a big manufacturing company, and that he could give John a job. John couldn’t believe his luck; he had found the answer he was searching for all his life. The next morning he started working, and he really liked his new job. His wife helped the lady around the house, and the kind lady was very happy to have met them. They became the family she never had, and they lived happily together. (Lucero Rivera)


In my mother's kitchen sits many things there are pots, pans, dishes, vegetables and fruits. But on this particular day sits my mom's mother in the corner of the room watching her daughter as she prepares a meal for her family. My grandma watches my mom while she washes the green squash and the red tomatoes. She looks on while she grates the cheese and opens the can of corn. As my mom begins to slice the green squash and red tomatoes my grandma soon realizes that my mom is preparing a dish of hers. This is her recipe that she passed on to her, this makes my grandma so proud and happy that she is using her recipe. My mom quickly tells an older girl to came and turn the stove on for her and grab a pot but it does not dawn on my grandma who the girl is. She asks herself" who is this tall girl with curly hair and glasses"? As my mom puts the food in the pan and lets the vegetables steam the tall girl with curly hair and glasses hugs my mom and states" I love when you make grandma's recipe, it tastes so good". My grandma begins to cry because she did not realize that this girl was her granddaughter in which she had not seen since she was two years old. Suddenly my mom and my sister cringe because they feel a cold wind around them but they do not realize this is the embrace of my grandma and my moms mom.(Mariana Mojica).

Under The Rug
Grandma's house, as the whole family referred it, is the house the house that sits on 401 Main Street. It was the only house on the block painted an exuberant yellow, with plants of green, purple, and red splashed throughout the lawn. As unique as it was on the outside, grandma always wanted to make those who entered feel well at home. I can always remember from grandma's lawn garden. Couches and pillows were fluffed in every occasion, so that when sitting in them would put one to sleep in a heartbeat. The kitchen was my favorite, it was the one room in the house where the family shared its best occasions. The kitchen was where my grandma could bring the family together, since no one willingly could turn down her homemade meals. As if eating wasn't enough, my grandma was no one to send any of her guest home empty handed. This was always the reason why every summer vacation I would intentionally plan for an extra long stay.

I can remember the summer my grandma passed, because it was expected to be the hottest summer yet, and I couldn't wait for the cherry ice pops awaiting in the freezer when I arrived. It was also the summer before junior high and the last summer I had before my mother would force me to attend summer school.

It had been a year since my grandma passed and I had visitied the house now referred to as my grandpa's. I had never really been as close to him as I was with my grandma, and I was utterly mad at the idea of the house now being named after him, since its beauty and resonance reflected my grandma. I was afraid of a change, I was afraid of my grandpa ripping her preseance away in the house. By the time I arrived at the house at 401 Main Street, gossip had spread through the family weeks before preparing me for what I was about to see. Family had mentioned that grandpa was not the same and that they were desperately worried. I guess it was up to my family that I would be helping him out for the summer, cleaning up what they now referred to as "a dump."

The house as I use to know now seemed deserted; pots that held plants now empty, gardens now dead, curtains now closed, cushions now sunk dow to its springs, and the kitchen now smelling of rust and mold, showing no sign of intended use. Mary, my grandma's cat died not long after her, and everyone including my grandpa knew Mary could not handle her death and said she died of sadness. Her litter box and toys still lay in the corner of the kitchen untouched.

Over the days and nights at the house was when I noticed unfamiliar behaviors in my grandpa. He had alwyas been delightful and compassionate, smiling and laughing. He always had a way of expressing his emotions through his eyebrows and moving them in every way possible, which would always brighen anyones day with laughter. He now slept long throughout the afternood, awakened to sit dazed amoung the television and sinking into the now screetching couch and flat, mottled pillows. The living room for which he sat had been secured from society, shielded with curtains and dark dismay. In the later evenings was really the only time my grandpa ever talked, I think it was the fresh sandwichs in combination with fresh milk that made him talkative. I knew that after our conversation over brunch that he would soon return to his room, sit in his chair, and gaze out of the his window at neibors and children strolling by.

I can remember one evening my grandpa sharing his last experience with Mary. He never really did enjoy my grandma's cat, for she would always find her trouble and destroy furniture and rugs. However, he always seemed to admire her at the end of the day, since her spitting image of grandma lay within her strawberry blonde hair and elegant poise. His last encounter was as he remembered during the time when I had been picking weeds from out of the garden. It was impossible I thought, since I knew that my mother had found Mary dead amoung the garden about a month after my grandma passed. I knew of his false content but did not express my feelings and let him go about with his story. Apparently, Mary had found her way upstairs and into his room, knocking down his coin collection and swooping under the rug as she always did rattling furniture and if successful knocking down lamps. I knew he hated when Mary had her way, spoiled to the extent where it was now a game to her. It was irrelevant and imaginative that my grandpa thought such things, but I was uncapable of creating more sadness and despair by breaking to him the news of her death, since Mary was one thing he felt was left of his wife.
Two weeks passed and it happened again, but this time I was there to witness. A gush of wind from the open window stormed through, sending a current of air into the room. My grandpa startled seen the carpet raise in its familiar lump quickly, and then rattle the nearby table. He quickly jumped to his feet and held the old scrapped chair made of wood high above his head as if to slam it back to the floor. He only stood there molded inot one pose, quiet and gazing. It was after this event that I knew my grandpa so desperately needed my grandma and craved for her existence. He was slowly losing her inch by inch in a home that withered away as her memory did of her. He was grieving and not adapting to its natural course, he was falling into a depressed state in a deep dark hole, that I needed to help him escape. It was not just a summer of chores and work, but a summer to help my grandma's other half. It was the summer my grandpa and I became closer, the summer I helped my grandpa cope with a loss, the summer that I cherish the most. (Jodi Gongora).

Another Place, Another Time
Andy, Tim, Aaron and Emily where four young extremely smart kids. They loved going to school and learning new things. They were very attached and were always together. One early morning as they were walking to school they noticed Emily was being very quiet. It was a cold morning and you could feel the cold breeze hitting your face as you walked. The other three kids thought she was being quit because she was cold. In reality she had other things in her mind. All throughout that day Emily was not being herself. It was evident that something was bothering her and after school as they walked home together the three other kids asked her what was wrong. As soon as they asked what was wrong she burst into tears. She said, “I don’t know what to do, my dad left the house and I couldn’t do anything to stop him.” She did not want her parents to be separated but there was nothing she could do. She was aware that her parents were getting a divorce but she never thought the day would come when her dad would actually leave the house. Tim, Aaron and Andy gave her a big hug and told her to not worry. They promised they would help her so that she could go find her dad. Emily was not too convinced that their plan, whatever it was, would work because she heard her father saying that he was going far away and that he would never come back. The next day without Emily knowing the three other kids got together to talk about Emily’s situation and try to come up with a plan. First they had to try to find out where Emily’s dad went. They knew he was not in the same city or state since he said he was moving far away. The only reasonable idea they were able to come up with was that he left to another country. They knew it was going to be hard to find Emily’s dad but they had to do something to help their friend. Tim mentioned that if Emily’s dad had left to another country he must have crossed the ocean. “If that is what is going to take to get Emily to her dad, then that is what we are going to have to do” said Aaron. Their overall plan was to go to an old railroad track near the ocean where they would build their own cart that would take them through the railroad tracks to their unknown destination. Just as they planned several days later instead of walking to school they walked to the tracks near the ocean. They all carried their backpacks and instead of books and notebooks they replaced them with snacks they could eat along their unknown journey. Emily was not too sure she wanted to go on the journey. She was not sure that she would find the answer to her problems across the ocean. Andy said to her that her dad had probably left in that same direction in search of a new beginning, to find and answer to all the problems he was having. They all agreed that if there was and answer, he’d find it there. If the four kids ever got to their destiny, that is unknown. No one ever heard of them again. Perhaps they died along the way or perhaps they got to their destination and are still searching for Emily’s dad. Guillermo Rojas

Mr. Linden’s Library
Samantha never read books. She believed books where an ancient past time that were now replaced by, movies, television, and cell phones. Samantha, never had an appreciation for books, she was consumed by modern technology.It was the first day of her senior year in high school when her new English teacher, Mrs. Sandoval, gave the class a list of books that they would be reading. In the back of the class four popular snobby girls snickered and laughed when Samantha whispered to the other girls “I’ve never actually read and finished an entire book before”. The teacher hearing this, grinned as she thought to herself that Samantha was going to be so captivated by the book she wouldn’t be able to set it down. Mrs. Sandoval looked to the back corner and asked the interrupting girls if they had something to share with the class, then all the girls quieted down immediately. Mrs. Sandoval, happy with the reaction she received, proceeded to go over the class syllabus.“We will read four books this semester and you will all be expected to write book reports describing what you got out of the book. I have provided a list of books to choose from. “Mrs. Sandoval asked the students to turn to the last page and brought everyone attention to the last book on the list by saying, “I guarantee that if you dare read this book you will not be able to set it down. “Mrs. Sandoval proceeded to advise that if the book were not read with the intention to enjoy it, the book itself would forever punish its reader. Confused and skeptical by the comment the students all laughed and one boy in the back blurted out, “What is the worst that could happen? It’s a book.” The kids all believed their new teacher was crazy and that she was saying these things to spark an interest in reading. After class the students dispersed and walked out of class with a perplexed filling, questioning the class period they just experienced. Later that day Samantha decided to stop by Mr. Linden’s Library, for she was indeed intrigued by what her new teacher had said and wanted to research more about the last book on the list.“Have you heard of the book, “Come In and See”? Samantha asked Mr. Linden, the librarian.“I have in deed, but I don’t recommend it, for some say it is cursed. It is only advised to read if you are an avid reader. This book requires complete attention and if one is not an advance reader they may get lost in the book and not enjoy what they find.”Samantha believing she is more than capable and not about to buy into all the hype of this book decided to check it out. Like all other students however, Samantha did not see the need to start reading the book right away, because after all she did have the rest of the semester to read it. About one week before the paper was due; Mrs. Sandoval asked how far everyone was on his or her papers. Knowing she needed to get started reading Samantha thought to herself, that she would just read the cliff notes on the book and make-up the rest. Later that night Samantha got on her trusted computer to find the notes on the book but suddenly realized the most trusted internet could not help her in this situation. She quickly realized that she was actually going to have to read the book if she care to pass the class and graduate from high school. Still not convinced that she couldn’t skim and understand enough to write a decent paper she began to browse the book. Samantha however, forgot about the warnings given to her about reading this book. She failed to remember that if read without the true desire to enjoy the book the reader would be lost inside. Sure enough not five pages in Samantha was not reading to enjoy, but rather to just get by, and the book slowly began grow green vines that started to swallow Samantha’s mind. Samantha passed out and fell into a deep coma. At once the book fell to the bed, and she laid on her bed unconscious. Her parents in the other room became suspicious, because Samantha was so quiet in her room, so they opened her door. Shocked to find Samantha unconscious and the vines growing out of the book, they called 9-1-1. Samantha was quickly rushed to the hospital where she was monitored throughout her entire time in a coma. Meanwhile Samantha’s parents contacted the school and announced that she would be unable to attend school indefinitely for she was in a coma and would be undergoing multiple test to try and determine what was causing her unexplainable state. Receiving word of Samantha’s situation, Mrs. Sandoval decided to contact her parents. She called that afternoon to tell them she was sorry for the situation and ask what Samantha was doing when they found her. Samantha’s mom replied that she was reading a book titled, “Come In and See”. Mrs. Sandoval went silent on the other line side of the phone line, and then she caught her breath and said that she knew what had happened. She slowly explained that Samantha began reading the book with the wrong intentions and is currently lost inside because of an ancient curse. Samantha’s parent desperate at this point begged Mrs. Sandoval for advice to getting their child back. Mrs. Sandoval enlightened them that Samantha is lost in the book and could not be found unless she read the book with the right intentions. Knowing she was unable to read the book while in a coma, Samantha’s mother asked what they could do in order to help her find her way out of the book. Mrs. Sandoval advised that they try reading the book to her and warned them that they should only try this if they truly wished to read the book to enjoy it and not just because they had to. That night when they got off the phone Samantha’s mom started reading the book to Samantha. By early the next morning after being truly intrigued and entertained Samantha’s mother finished the book. She then fell asleep due to her lack of sleep. When Samantha awoke from her coma. She awoke with complete knowledge of what her mother read and then found her mom asleep in the chair next to the bed. Samantha woke her mom and gave her a hug. Her mom overwhelmed with joy to see her daughter awake began to cry.Later that day although completely confused as to the cause of the coma the doctors released Samantha and told her to come back in if she felt dizzy or sick. Samantha went straight home and wrote her book report. In her report she discussed her experience while being lost in the book and showed that books are a lost form of art that if not appreciated and read in the spirit to enjoy one may get lost in them and not enjoy them at all. (Jennifer Landers)

Short Story
“So what do you think Potts?”
“Looks like someone threw him off the roof sarge.”
“Oh you’re a freakin’ genius, statey material, brightest freakin’ badge in Suffolk County.”
“Damn sarge, there’s a little bit of him everywhere. Not just in the bin, all over the alley.”
“Did I ask for a friggin’ commentary? Do your job, and don’t trample the corpse.”
You know that out of body experience some people have, that’s me right now. I’m starring down at myself, or what’s left of me. Piled in a dumpster, half in half out, totally shot-gunned by gravity. I’m starring at myself and thinking how those garbage bags look in a funny kind of way like silk pillows or really comfortable suffocating bean bags. I’m starring at my one and a half open eyes, the kinks in my limbs that shouldn’t be there, the river of red coming out of everywhere like Moses stuck his staff in a place where puppeteers shoehorn life into wood and plastic. In a kind of funny way, that’s probably how this felt. Not that I remember every detail of what happened to me, and it’s not like the Boston PD is going to give two bits either. And yeah, you know this is going to be an open and shut case. Druggy takes a leap of faith out the third floor window, lands head first in a heap. No need to notify family or next of kin because their ain’t none. Because of course, it’s all so simple. Didn’t anyone tell you? You’re dead and parsimony is the law of the universe.
“Open window sarge, up there.”
“In the middle of winter?”
“Looks like…eight rooms in, third floor?”
“Seven rooms. Let’s head up.”
My little corner of the southie projects isn’t exactly a getaway in Somerville, but look close and you’ll find pieces of Providence. There are things that belong but much of it didn’t. Yeah, some of it was stolen. From the third floor of this 18th century brick lean too, I’d sit and listen to the rest of South Boston go to waste. Inside, my walls used to have ornate wallpaper that I may or may not have ripped off in fits of boredom. Every piece of furniture was scarred by cigarette burns or needles. Broken dishes found their way into places I’ve never been. The water never worked. And when it did, it was always brown and ice cold. The original drapes still hung though, dancing in front of the only open window. I don’t know why, but I could never bring myself to destroy them. Everything else in here was a reflection of me, broken, burned, and maimed. But not these drapes. This may or may not be due to the fact that I may or may not have had similar curtains hanging in the bedroom of someplace far and away.
“What a crap-hole, betcha a pint at McGinty’s all this property’s stolen.”
“Locked door and an open window, thinking possible 187 sarge?”
“I’m thinking you should stop thinking and give me a ‘sec.”
Murdered. Yeah, I’d buy that. I owed plenty of people more than just money. Who wouldn’t want to give me a crash course in Newton’s Law. Jimmy Bags, Frank McManus, Miles Kennefick, all the junkie dealers, they knew where to find me. It’s not like I went anywhere special. It’s not like I really ever left here unless I had to. What’s really funny is that for a bottom rung ladder type of guy, the lowlife street rat who’d never leave Suffy, I wanted to live here. I needed it. Here on this third floor, with the drapes that looked just like back then. I did what I had too just to make the rent for another month. Make this last just a little longer. There was something here that I’d never find anywhere else. Something that I’d be afraid to miss. What’s really funny is, for a bottom feeding southie streetwalker, I could call this place home.
“Jesus, look we’re wasting our time here Potts. Junkie or whoever, probably left the window open after some trip, then Surly Southie here decides to throw himself through it just for the hell of it. Case closed.”
“I got a good line for his obituary sarge, ‘It all began when someone left the window open,’ spooky, huh?”
“Yeah, you’re the next Poe of the commonwealth.”
You can imagine, being unemployed and completely wasted, I had time plenty of time to burn. Sometimes I’d just sit. I’d sit and watch the curtains move against the window. I’d sit and let my cigarette burn its way through my fingertips. Motionless, I’d sit and remember what it was like before. I’d sit and imagine a silhouette in front of the window. This silhouette, she’d have a kid in her arms. They’d move and sway with the curtains, dancing to a tune I could never dream up. In between blinking eyes I’d steal a moment’s clarity. I’d dig deep to that imagination we all used to have. A tool I’d resurrected out of necessity. I’d imagine that I wasn’t in the southie projects anymore. That the air wasn’t thick with drugs and diesel fuel and cheap perfume. That for the first time in a long time, there would be smells and sounds all too familiar. I’d sit and try to remember how it all felt, that this was all real at one point. I’d sit, and for a time, I couldn’t move, even if I wanted too. This was how I tried to spend my day. I never left here, and if I did, it wasn’t for long. You know that feeling of having left something behind? That was me 24/7. The panic attack of taking my eyes away from that window, those curtains, like I’d never see them again.
So The truth is, I probably did jump. The truth is I probably wasn’t high when I did. The truth is that whenever I saw those drapes, it reminded me of the people who once loved me. A place that really was home. That I couldn’t take it much longer. Couldn’t take being reminded that in a different time, I was a different person. The truth is, watching those drapes flutter across the window gave me a better high than anything off the street. But we all have to come down sometime. We all have to realize we’ll never be able to live in a dream. Never be able to change the past. Never be able to move on to the future. The truth is, one way or another, we all end up as pieces of garbage.
- Ken Cadiente


Archie Smith, Boy Wonder
Archie slowly wakes up to the chill of the night and faint whispers. He sees two glowing balls of light that eventually emerge into figures.
Then a tiny voice asked,"Is he the one?" All of a sudden the glowing lights explode and fill the whole room. Archie opens his eyes to lush green plains and yellow, pink, and blue flowers. He was no longer in the comfort of his room.
The two balls of light conclude into a shape of a boy and a girl. "I'm Dexter and this is Lulu, we've been looking for you". Archie, dazed and confused asks, "Me? why would you be looking for me?"
Dexter replies "To give you your powers"
"What Powers?"
"Your powers to make a difference in the world, to be the best example and do good things. The world has many, many problems, and now it's up to you to help us save it"
"Why me?"
"Lulu and I are from the future, if we didn't come find you and give you your powers now, the world will end"
"I don't know if I'm the right boy for this job"
"Oh but you are, we've seen you and kept an eye on you"
"You're a good boy Archie, and our only hope" chimes Lulu.
Then darkness desends every inch of the plains and covers all the colorful flowers. Dexter and Lulu disappear. Archie feels cold and complete darkness.
Archie wakes up and looks around. He's back in his room. He could have sworn that he was awake and not dreaming. Feeling disappointed, he goes back to sleep relunctantly.
Out the window in the dark night, there are two glowing balls of light.
-Leila Alawad

Hard Work, Commitment, and Sacrifice



When dealing with accomplishing your goals, it takes more than just heart and passion to accomplish a

dream. As a child, Emmanuel was blessed with the skills and natural ability to succeed in basketball.

However, my drive and determination became more intense as he started traveling and playing

basketball competitively. He had to fight for recognition by dedicating my time to many hours of

practice. He remember waking up early to run on the beach with my father before school every

morning. His childhood consist of constant of hard work, commitment, and sacrifice to prosper

in basketball. He vividly recall it being extremely cold by the San Francisco Bay, but also

reminding myself that it was a necessary step in getting an advantage over my competitors. In

all honesty, he did not enjoy the sacrifices made for basketball, but I believed in fighting for what

he love. In the eighth grade, he suffered an injury which resulted in ligament damage to his lower

back. My father asked me if I would be able to participate in the next game, which was only one

day away. He was in excruciating pain and had difficulties walking, but he knew that his team

depended on my athletic abilities. He nformed my father that he would be ready to return to the

court, by the next game. The following game, although injured, he played as hard as possible,

limping on the court and battling anyone that challenged me. Through all the pain and grief he

still managed to tally up twenty-six points, thirteen rebounds, and seven block shots. Most

importantly, his team was victorious, and as a result of playing despite his injury, he gained the

reputation as a leader. As a he got better at basketball he got very cocky. As he got cockier, he

got shorter, due to a spell that was cast on him by a wizard. Emmanual then moved to a small

town, which had small houses, doors, and cars he can use. His hard work went out the window

because he was so short, which was affect of his bad attitude.

(Jerry Brown)

I always told myself that I would break these shackles of servitude that I was cursed with. I grew up in the care of my uncle who is of nobility. He was a cruel man who took me in when my parents were killed for assisting the resistance. He was the only family I ever knew so I always felt like I owed him for taking care of me when he could have thrown me to the streets of Paris.
France was chaos and in shambles because of the Revolution which sought to change tradition and remove the monarchy.
“Julietta! Julietta!” my uncle calls out for me to probably to do some horrible chore.
My uncle would send me to impossible tasks such going to pick berries in the field even though they weren’t in season yet. My uncle would do such things to entertain himself and if I didn’t accomplish this task my uncle would keep meals from me. Sometimes I went days without food.
Day in and day out it was always the same thing until one day as I was walking through the city, I heard a story of a magical pumpkin that would grant one wish to whomever ate it. I grew obsessed with this story, longing to leave my uncles grips. I decided that I would travel the land, slip away from my uncles’ home at night and search for the magical pumpkin.
What I didn’t know about leaving the home of my uncle is that he would follow me. He didn’t like that I would become independent and leave. I couldn’t understand why he would follow maybe because he didn’t know what else to do but be controlling and hold me on a short leash.
Traveling far and wide to run away and to find the golden pumpkin. I met new people and got to see more of the world. In my travels I befriended a man that I found odd, he wore his hair down like a girl and he was very skittish. His name was Gustav. I found out that he was running like I was but for different reasons. We ended up finding the pumpkin in a cave where there were ancient paintings that looked that they told the story of the magical pumpkin and the chaos it could ensue if too many people ate of it. We ignored their warnings and took it from its resting place.
On our travels back home I told Gustav about my parents who lost their nobility and how they cared more for the well being of the country and the people. I also told him about my cruel noble uncle whom Gustav seemed to be shocked when I told him who my uncle was.
When we got back to Paris and back to the home I feared and fled I grabbed a knife which felt oddly heavy and as I was about to cut into the pumpkin to wish my uncle away Gustav shout out.
“Julietta, I am Gustav Dauphin of France and you are my long lost sister, Juiletta Duchess of France. I lowering the knife and it became even lighter in my hands. Your parents weren’t your real parents but your caretakers and also kidnappers. It seems that they fell in love with you when you were a baby and they didn’t want to lose you so they took you and raised you as their own. They became part of the resistance trying to gain a better life for themselves and you but their attempts at changing the world lead to their deaths and you ended up with your uncle who knew your true identity and kept you hidden from us all these years and what seems to be right under our nose.

Without even eating this magic pumpkin my wishes came true but what shall I do with this pumpkin now. I had no use of this pumpkin because I finally new the truth about who I am and that my so called uncle couldn’t touch me anymore for now I hold my own fate in my hands and not my uncle.

Because of the Revolution Gustav asked me if he could eat the pumpkin in order to set things right in his kingdom after what he had done and he asked that I assume the thrown because he no longer wanted to take the responsibility of causing a Revolution and he spoke of going into hiding.

As soon as I became Dauphine of France I called my “uncle” to court for the injustices he had bestowed upon me. I could have his head or imprisoned him for a lifetime but I felt that he deserved the same kindness he showed me and made him my servant at the palace. He was no longer to look down upon me or threaten me I was finally free.

What remained of the magical pumpkin no one will ever know for it seemed to disappear along with Gustav. (Jerica Guzman)


Captain Tory
It's safe in the harbor. The only thing to fear is the suffocating, damp fog that surrounds the bay's parameter and swallows the vessels, sheds, shacks, and houses, leaving nothing but misty, floating lights that dance with the wake of the sleeping sea. Even then, Simon does not fear the sounds, the stillness, and the unseen lurking within the brume. He proceeds swiftly with a heedless demeanor that cuts through the stinging, cold air of the night, leaving behind him a trail of clear darkness as the mist from the fog collects on the wool coat his father had left him before the war. Today marks one year. He reaches the railing on the East side of the harbor that looks out to The Estate Bridge. The expansive bridge connects the teeming, massive city to quiet Harbor Village, the place Simon reluctantly calls home. The tall buildings that form the city across the harbor, when the lights glisten on different stories, form shapes that resemble giants in the thick fog. Simon sits and stares and wonders aloud, as if asking the giants, his friends, "When is he coming home?"
Simon closes his eyes and lets the mist tingle his face. He imagines each grain of vapor to be a cleanser, washing off the day he had had with his wretched Aunt May and Uncle Howard. After his father had gone, Simon was left under the "care" of his Aunt and Uncle. This year left Simon ample time to ponder the question: whom was taking care of whom? His mind-numbing chores proved to be a tedious reminder of what seemed like abandonment from his father. "Why couldn't I go with him?" Simon asks the giants. Without opening his eyes, Simon reflects on his year of unjustified servitude, and as he drifts into a whirlwind of chores, scoldings, beatings, and neglect, Simon's eyes begin to burst with tears. Eyes clenched shut, he weeps as he longs for his father and the companionship that once characterized their love. The cold air, coupled with his tears burn his face, but he can't help but think about the times he would spend with his father on The Gale, their schooner.
Suddenly, through his tears and the melancholy of his memories, Simon hears a faint sound. A whistle blows. For the first time, he finds himself to be startled at this hour in the harbor, for typically he is alone. He looks around, examining the area with a keen eye and an even more acute ear. Without a sound, Simon turns and starts toward his Aunt and Uncle's house, feeling unnerved and hopeful all at once. He wishes he could hear the whistle again. The chime, although faint, was sublime to Simon's eardrums and offered a new prospect for his dull existence. A whistle blows, this time with more influence. Simon turns quickly and stands still in the night. The waves softly clap as they hit the boats in the harbor. The trees gently rustle as a soothing wind caresses their leaves. Simon is struck with the presence of a man in a captain's uniform. His scraggly, black beard is manipulated by the wind, and he carries a lantern flickering with a deep amber flame. Simon feels a warmth consume his body, as if the flame from the man's lantern is close enough to taste. The man studies Simon who now exhibits a face that spells bewilderment. Where did this man come from?
"Hello, Simon."
"Who are you?"
The man replies with a beaming smile, "I am Captain Tory. I'm here to take you home."
And just as the man mysteriously emanated from the fog, so did his vessel. He swung his lantern three times and slowly the schooner appeared, The Gale.
"That's my boat!"
"Is it? I could've sworn is was your Father's."
"Well, I mean...it is my Father's. It's ours. How did you get our boat? Where are we going?"
"You're going home. But first, you have something you have to do before you go."
(Matthew Freitas)

Amália dashed up the icy steps of the back porch and into the warm glow of the kitchen. Her freckled cheeks and nose glowed with the ruddy red of winter and her green eyes shone bright with exhilaration as she kicked off her slush-covered boots and stumbled down hall towards the door that lead into the basement.

“Hurry up!” Called Tristan, coming up to the porch a few paces behind her,

“They’re all waiting by the bridge!”

The neighborhood children were always impatient on the first truly icy day of winter. Amália and her friends all rushed home as soon as the final bell rang, fishing their skates out from musty boxes stored in frigid attics, digging them out from under their unmade beds or retrieving them from damp basements. She loved the first skating day of winter. The sky was a piercing, icy blue after the previous nights snowfall and the fresh powder crunched deliciously underfoot as the children hurried home to prepare for the afternoons frivolities. Winter had arrived.

Tristan paced on the porch, unwilling to take off his boots to go inside. He pulled his bright red cap tight about his ears and stomped his feet, trying to keep warm.

“Come on, Amália!” He called into the house.

His voice sounded distant to her as she reached the large, imposing door that lead from the warm, brightly lit hall down the cold, creaky stairs into the frigid, dank basement. She’d never liked the basement; it was dark, damp and cluttered—the piles of miscellaneous goods taking on an unfamiliar, sinister quality in the dim light of the single, hanging light bulb at the bottom of the stairs. She made her way down the steps by the light of the hall through the open door above, then grabbed at the chain to click on the light at the base of the stairs. The light swung gently, casting shadows that swayed and danced around the room like the imps, fairies and demons she read about in the storybook she kept by her bed. “It’s only junk,” she reassured herself as she made her way deeper into the room, “It’s only stuff. Just get the skates.”

At the far end of the basement, hanging on a bolt unceremoniously driven into the cinderblock wall, she saw a silver gleam as the light played across the blade of her ice skates. Picking her way along the path through the piles of boxes, gardening tools and old furniture, she reached the skates only to find one of them was missing. “It probably fell off the nail,” she thought, and immediately started looking around her feet for the fallen skate. The concrete floor was cold and damp, even through her thick winter socks—she wished she’d kept her boots on, no matter how Mama would scold her for wearing her soggy, ice-crusted boots in the house.

There was no sign of her other skate as she glanced around. The walls were lined with a considerable number of boxes, loose bags of off-season clothes and various odds and ends they didn’t use year round. Amália dropped to her knees and began sliding boxes away from the wall, hoping her wayward skate had simply fallen behind the storage crates.

Glancing up at the space she’d just cleared, she caught her breath and looked back at the wall, not sure she believed what her eyes were telling her. There in the wall, nestled in the cinderblocks as if it belonged, stood a diminutive door, no higher than 14 inches. It wasn’t a door like you’d expect to find in basement—not a cutaway leading to service access to get at the pipes or a crawlspace so workmen could fiddle with the wiring—it was a little arched door made of carved, stained wood, with large scrolling ironwork hinges and an oversized knob decorated with iron filigree. It looked ancient, mystical and alarmingly out of place in the cold cinderblock wall. She glanced about the room and noticed that the light had stopped swaying and the shadows had stopped dancing—the room was deathly still and she could no longer hear Tristan outside.

Suddenly, a faint sound drifted up from near the floor and a dim light came on through the crack at the bottom of the door—she could see shadows flitting by—something was on the other side! The scratching, skittering sound continued and Amália scrambled back away from the wall, knocking over a box of Christmas ornaments as she scurried to create distance between herself and the strange apparition. The scratching sounds abruptly stopped and the shadow under the door paused, alerted to her presence. Amália froze, trying not to breathe as her mind grappled with fear, curiosity and disbelief. Her heart was pounding—then seemed to stand still. She was sure she had seen the doorknob turn.

(Ian Loveall— “Uninvited Guests.”)

Under the Rug

The day started off like a typical Tuesday, teeth brushed, an hour spent to comb through my frizzy red hair, my face powdered to cover to vast amount of freckles I dearly despise, and at last a picture of myself taken to show the newer me each day. My clothes were starting to fit better each day, a little looser, where I wasn't cutting off my circulation just to button the pants. I hated even wearing pants, sweats would have been my choice, but my mother was so adamant about the way I dressed when going out. Not like it even mattered, she let me grow to a whopping 300 pounds at 15 years old, not to mention, bless her soul, that she reached over 450 pounds before, well before, we all had to say goodbye. I cried, day after day, wishing she would have done something sooner to take care of herself, to help take care of me. How did I know all the risks associated with that kind of weight, I was only 14 when it happened.

I had worked so hard, so many evenings arguing with my father about how he needs to start eating better for himself too, not because he was overweight, but because of the thought of losing him too. He didn't listen to me, he would just start crying at the sound of my mothers name. He used to tell me every day, it's not about what you eat, but about how much you eat. Both mama and I did have a tendency to eat at least three servings at each sitting. Mama knew how to cook and she loved to eat it, as did I.

This is when I decided, since my Dad would not take me serious, and I knew I couldn't follow my Mom's footsteps, I had to change myself if I wanted to live. I started researching in the library and online ways to lose weight. Boy was I overwhelmed, the amount of information on diets were vast and each one claimed to be better than any other. How was I supposed to know which one to follow? Dad wouldn't even discuss anything with me and I didn't have any close friends. Who wanted to be friends with the big girl? So, I would stay after school and go to the library and read each book, because I wanted to know. I would try to hide in a corner so no one else would see me, but that was a little hard since I barely fit in a corner. Tears would stream down my face, and I would try to protect the books from tear drops.

Finally after reading hundreds of books and still being confused, I felt like I had nothing to lose, so I asked a girl I didn't know, who was skinny, how she managed to look they way she did. I was desperate, I felt if she didn't help and my Dad didn't help there would be no point to continue living. Luckily, she was surprisingly nice. She felt for me, she even said she had an overweight problem before, before she started this amazing diet. So, we walked over to the shelf in the library that contained diet books and she pulled out this book and handed it to me. As she pulled it out, all I could think of was my mother. I was going to do right for my mother, she would have been proud.

I thanked the girl, checked out of the library as fast as I could move, which wasn't very fast, and headed home to read and finally get my life back. Several months went by, pounds started to drop and I felt good. My father on the other hand, he wasn't supportive like I would have hoped. He kept trying to get me to eat more. We had argument after argument, because, why would he want me to eat more? I didn't want to end up like mama.

When dad wasn't looking, I would hide the roll he would give me and put it in my pocket. There was no way I was going to eat carbohydrates. I read they were the cause of all my problems. I couldn't even believe he could try to push it on me. So after dinner one night I started to pull the roll out of my pocket to throw it away and I heard footsteps pounding heavily towards the room. I panicked and dropped the roll. In a scurry, I lifted the rug real quick and kicked it under.

"What's going on? Why are you bent over like that?" he sternly said to me.

"Oh, umm, I think I ate too much and my tummy hurts. I need to go to my room dad" I would reply.

As I started towards the stairs and thought I was free, I heard him gasp. The rug was raised and I saw him raise
the antique chair over his head. "Oh no, he must think the roll is something dangerous" I whispered under my breath.

He pounded the chair against the rug to notice, whatever was under there wasn't moving, and wasn't hard at all. Luckily the
chair was not damaged. That was my favorite chair. He picked up the rug and noticed a roll under the rug, mushed into the floor.

Two weeks passed and it happened again. It was from that day on, Dad started talking to me about healthy eating. I got my Dad
back.
[Amy Tucker]

---

[Amber Bowen]
Oscar and Alphonse
My posh upbringing was filled with grimaces and wrinkles from frowning on my parents faces. Smiles and warm hugs were as foreign to me as the Persian rug I wasn’t allowed to play on that sat in the study in the east wing of our countryside mansion.
At the ripe age of eleven my days were planned out specifically. Breakfast in silence at 7:00, math at 8:00, English at 10:00, lunch with a heaping side of solitude at 12:00, cello practice at 1:00, tennis instruction at 3:00, French at 5:00, another silent- besides the sound of forks on fine china- dinner at 7:00, bed at 8:30, repeat. There was no real playtime, socialization, or love in my house. It was just me, surrounded by robot-like people. I longed for a friend, a person I could share all of my deep, dark, yet childish thoughts with. Sure I had butlers, and maids, and teachers, and even a shrink, but none were confidant worthy.
One day after yet another monotonous “meal” with my “parents” sitting at the far end of a long table, I decided I didn’t want to live like that anymore. I’ll just run away and never come back I thought to myself. I can survive well enough in the forest my fantasy continued. So it was decided, on my way to 3:00 tennis I would run off into the forest to live on my own. Well, at least for a few hours. It was marvelous! Once I passed the initial line of trees I found myself in a field more beautiful than I could ever imagine. The smell of wild flowers, the soft breeze carried the scent as it caressed my well moisturized skin.
I began to run, free, like a wild mustang. I ran to an opening in the field, I spotted a large patch of dirt I want to roll around in. Whereas my mother associated dirty clothes with poor manners, I associated it with truly being a kid. At this point I was running faster than I had ever run before. Just as I was about to break from the grassy field I spotted something wiggling around in the dirt. It looked like a huge pile of snakes! Eek! I slid through the dirt catching myself right before I fell into the mound of scales and fangs. Sure that my life was about to end, something quite peculiar started to happen.
My eyes focused in on the mound. Was it my imagination, or was there a purpose, a rhyme to the movement of this creature? Or should I say these creatures? Was it trying to communicate? Then the letters appeared. In continuous cursive, the creatures spelled first an “h”, then an “e”, then “llo”.
“Hello! Wh-what are you?” I questioned.
“We are caterpillars” they spelled.
“How fascinating! What are your names?” I asked curiously.
“Oscar and Alphonse” replied the caterpillars. “What is your name, friend?”
Friend? I had never had a friend before. The excitement I felt couldn’t be contained. I finally had made friends in this lonely world.
“Charlotte! My name is Charlotte” I blurted out.
We spent the whole afternoon playing and sharing stories. I was surprised that two caterpillars could have so many exciting adventures. As the sun made its way towards the horizon I knew our time together would have to come to a close.
“So, same time tomorrow?” I assumed.
“Tomorrow is the metamorphosis” they replied.
“What is that?” I asked, confused.
“We will turn into butterflies, but don’t fret, you’ll see us flying around” they reassured me.
“Oh” They could sense my disappointment.
I picked them up to give them one last hug before they moved on to their next stage of life. I knew it was time to send them back. They softly wiggled in my hand, spelling out “goodbye”.
I can’t be sure of it but I’m almost positive Alphonse is this red butterfly with a glowing gold center I see hovering around the tennis courts from time to time. Oscar is cardinal blue and spotted with flecks of black, gold, and turquoise always fluttering not too far behind. They remind me to be more adventurous.
[Amber Bowen]

The Third-Floor Bedroom
“It all began when someone left the window open.” At first they moved in undetected. Making no noise and leaving no trail. One at a time, as if they were following in line. Soon enough there were enough to fill the entire house. If only Sarah had remembered to close the window.
The Wrights enjoyed the semi-seclusion their ranch style home provided. Their nearest neighbors were two miles away in either direction, and encounters were rare. Their home had been a quiet place to hide away from the hubbub of the city, and the Wrights had never known it any other way. Their yard was well manicured, their rooms spotless, and their manners proper. Robert was the oldest of the three Wright children. At ten years old, he was a very curious young boy interested in finding out how things worked. He often took things apart in order to find out how to put them back together. Emma was the middle child of the family. At eight years old, she had not grown out of her childish charm and still believed everything needed to be done for her. Sarah was the youngest of the bunch. Having just turned five, Sarah believed she could do anything her brother and sister did, which often got her into sticky situations. They had never left their isolated home, and knew nothing about the world around them. Having no close friends or neighbors, the Wright children learned to provide their own sources of entertainment. One blistering hot day in late June, Emma, Robert, and Sarah escaped to the new adventures the third-floor bedroom was sure to provide. Never had they been allowed into such a room. The third-floor had always been off-limits. Entering the room, the children realized the room was empty. Nothing covered the old hardwood floors but dust bunnies. Emma and Sarah danced around the room pretending they were Disney princesses while Robert wandered aimlessly around hoping he could find some toys left by the previous owners. Today was un-ordinarily hot for June and with no air conditioning in the home, Sarah could not bear the heat without opening the window. After Emma, Robert, and Sarah became bored of their antics, they returned to the kitchen in time for dinner, forgetting to close the window. It may have been due to the extreme heat, or the uninhabited territory, but bees found refuge in the Wrights third-floor bedroom; a little at first, and then by the hundreds. Soon enough, the room was engulfed. Slowly they began spilling out into the stairway; buzzing in unison. Emma, Robert, and Sarah’s bedrooms were located on the second-floor. The bees flew into each of their rooms, finding comfort in the open spaces. Once the second floor was unmanageable, they continued further down, reaching the first-floor. The bees preyed on the unsuspecting victims. Swarming around the Wrights and trapping them in their seats. They had never seen such a phenomenon. Too scared to moved, the children screamed in terror. Mr. and Mrs. Wright were paralyzed. They had never seen so many bees before. What had they done to cause such a thing? Was the house haunted? A million thoughts ran through their minds. Once the shock wore off, Mr. and Mrs. Wright took action. Rounding all of the children up, the Wrights bee-lined for the front door, hoping their efforts would not go unrewarded. As they ran to the bright green grass of their front yard, the Wrights could not help but shed a tear. Never would they be able to return to the place they once called home. Things were different now. Leaving all belongings behind, the Wrights began their long trek to the city, hoping it would provide comfort they desperately longed for. (Nicole Peck)

Mr. Linden's Library

Lina and her parents walked next door to their new neighbor's home. "Be good Lina, don't cause a ruckus this time" her father scolded before arriving to the front door. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! As the new neighbors answered the door the family shouted, "WELCOME TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD!" Lina's mother said "We brought you some banana bread! It's my grandmother's recipe." Anabel, the new neighbor replied, "Oh, thank you! How precious! Please, please, come in come in. My name is Anabel and this is my husband Fred." The family with banana bread in tow entered the newly remodeled 1920's home. "Looks amazing! Fred how did you refinish this gorgeous hard wood?" Lina's dad was impressed by the neatly kept home, still original in style, but new in every sense of decor.
Lina separated from her parents and opened a few doors around the home. The first door was a boring old linen closet, "smells dusty!" The second door she opened was a bathroom with a pair of underwear hung over the bathtub side, "EW! Gross!" The third door she opened led to the most amazing thing she had ever seen. The room was large with book cases surrounding the room. Each book case was filled with thick, thin, dusty, new, leather backed, paper backed, hard backed books. "Well this outta be interesting." Lina said out loud as she entered the discovered library. She looked for titles that were more for adults than for nine year old children. As she looked around the room, a book caught her eye. The book had a bright green spine with purple and sky blue writing, titled, The Earth, The Garden, The Miracle!. She pulled the book out of its designated space and sat on the floor with her legs folded. Lina opened the first page which showed beautiful pictures of flowers, plants and the earth within it's beauty. Right in the middle of the picture, was a little girl with a watering can, immediately, Lina closed her eyes and imagined she were that little girl, in control of all the world's most precious beauty and knowledge. Lina wanted to be in charge, she was tired of her parents controlling her life, she wanted to not only control her life, but feel like she could control everyone else's.
Mr. Linden walked into his study, "what are you doing?" Lina explained, a little embarrassed and shy that she was simply looking for a new book to read since she had just finished the last one. She asked Mr. Linden if she could borrow the book that was laying in her lap. Mr. Linden agreed but warned her, "I will let you borrow this book, but be careful. This book has magic powers and may transform parts of you into something unimaginable." Lina paused looking at Mr. Linden, "OK! Thanks. I'll bring it back when I'm done." Lina turned around and ran out of the house.
Lina ran home as fast as she could with the book under her arm. As soon as she got to her room, Lina opened the book. She learned about the world, cultures, differences, inequalities. Lina found she was done with the book in a matter of what seemed like minutes, before her parents came home from the Linden's house. Lina wanted more, she wanted to know more about the world, her community, and society. She wanted to have the knowledge to gain her own thoughts and feelings about helping societal degradations, but she was only nine! He had warned her about the book. Now it was too late. Lina had changed from ego-centric child to empathetic young lady. Lina had changed all right, she wanted change.
Lina never thought a book would ever have such impact on her daily life. Soon, Lina started diversity clubs at school and fund raised for multiple charities around the world. She continued this change and found comfort in knowing she was helping people. From that moment on, Lina helped anyone and everyone she came in contact who needed it. -Ashlee Hickey

OSCAR AND ALPHONSE


Samantha could hardly sit still as she fidgeted in the seat of the car, the day of the camping trip finally arrived. She watched with excitement as large trees replaced the houses she passed on the streets. She daydreamed of the trees she would climb, the birds chirping, the fresh scent of the forest, and playing in the dirt. The car came to a stop at last and she hopped off the car with her parents.
“ I’m going to explore the whole forest!” Samantha exclaimed.
“No, Sam you must stay near our camp where we can see you. We will go on a hike as a family just wait until after we eat lunch” Her mother replied.
“Awww why? I promise I will stay close!”
“Okay you may play here where you are in our sight.”
As Samantha’s parents began setting up the camp, she collected flowers from the bushes nearby. She gathered an assortment of pink, yellow, red, and purple flowers, any color she could possibly find growing in the forest. While admiring the colorful petals, a flash of glitter fluttered by out of the corner of her eye. She glanced over and immediately dropped her flowers. She had never seen anything as colorful and beautiful as the stunning pattern on the wings of this butterfly. In a trance she followed behind the butterfly gliding through the air. It landed on a pile of mud and as she neared closer she noticed something wriggling under the wet dirt. She realized it was two caterpillars stuck in the mud.
“Poor little guys you must need help!”
She quickly picked them up and washed them in a stream nearby as the butterfly looked over them. She realized that the caterpillars were the butterfly’s friends and would soon become just as beautiful as it.
“I’m going to name you Oscar and you Alphonse!”
“Samantha where are you? the food is ready!!!” her parents called after her from a distance.
She knew it was time to send them back.The caterpillars softly wiggled in her hand, spelling out "goodbye".
(Patricia Perez)

Mr. Linden's Library

In a small town outside of Manhattan ,New York in the 1950's lived a girl named Lisa. Lisa had became fond of reading so she frequently visited grandpa's bookstore in downtown Manhattan. One day grandpa chuck was feeling ill and asked Lisa to look after the store for him for the day. Lisa gladly excepted Grandpa chuck's offer. While cleaning the store Lisa discovered a secret safe that had a single book locked inside. Lisa became curious but as soon as she was about to open the safe she felt a hand cover her hand that was on the safe. She turned to discover it was Grandpa chuck. Furiously he warned her about the books dangerous and encouraged her never to read the book. Doing so, would cause her, her life and life as she knew it would come to an end. He explained to her what had happened in the book and how powerful it was. In the book the main character is a young woman who falls in love, in desperate pleas to find her long lost love. She becomes so occupied with doing so that the young woman loses touch with reality and is now in a state of depression. In the end the young woman dies of a broken heart. The book became so popular in grandpa chuck linden's library that he had to lock it away. He found that every woman who came in contact with the book, perceived the young woman to be themselves and died of a broken heart. Hearing this Lisa could not resist she had to find a way to read the book without losing her own life. After many attempts to obtain the book Lisa finally got her hands on the book. The final night of her completion of the book Lisa had passed away from a broken heart which her curiosity could not resist. The next morning grandpa Linden found Lisa in her bedroom along side the book. With a broken heart he burned the book and closed his book store for good. "He warned her about the book, now it was too late". (LaTashia williams)




A Strange Day July

It was July 2nd, a day before William turned eight, and his parents seem to have forgotten since all he heard around his house lately was constant arguing between them. His little sister Esbeida was only four years old and even though she was too little to understand what was going on in her house, the screams would scare her and she would run and hide under the kitchen table as if trying to escape all the yelling coming from their parents’ bedroom. William did not like to see his sister like that and he felt that he couldn’t do anything about it or try to explain to her that everything was going to be okay because she was too small to understand. He didn’t want his sister to grow traumatized so what he would do when this would happen in his house, he would get her and take her to a lake that was near the ranch that they lived by. He sat her behind him on some big rocks and he felt that he had so much resentment/sadness in him, but he couldn’t talk to his sister because she wouldn’t understand so what he did to let things out was throw stones in the lake and watch them skip. He did this for as long as he wanted to, until he felt calmed and able to go back home hoping his parents were not arguing any more.
His birthday passed by and his parents had forgotten about his special day. It seemed that there were other important things going on in his house, but the constant arguing did not stop between his parents. One afternoon he got home from school and his dad was with luggage heading out the door and his little sister was crying by him pulling his shirt as if she knew what was going on. William asked him where he was going and his dad did not respond. William ran to his mom who was sitting on the couch in the living room and she hugged him and told him that he was going to be gone for a long, long time. The truth was that his parents were each going their separate ways, but William did not know why and he did not want to ask because like his mom always told him, “You are too small to understand, but one day you will understand what happened.” William gave his dad a big hug and kiss and watched him leave the house never turning back. William did not know what to do, to comfort his mom and sister when he too felt sad.
William grabbed Esbeida and told his mom he was going to take her for a walk so that she could calm down and stop crying. He took her to the lake that they would go to skip stones when he felt sad, but something happened that day that made him see life in a different way and realize that there’s light at the end of the tunnel. He didn’t understand exactly that day because he was only eight, but as he grew older and the things he was going through in life as he was growing up, made him slowly understand what was said to him that day.
That day when he took his sister to the lake after his dad had left, he threw his first stone, the second stone and watched them skip, something that for some reason made him feel calmed and relax. Then he threw with all his might, but the third stone came skipping back. William was trying to process how that had happened when he felt a hand on his shoulder and when he turned and looked up, it was an old man with a cane. The man told him, “No matter how far life pushes you down, no matter how much you feel hurt, you can always bounce back, just like that stone did.” Then, William looked in front of him looking at the lake and trying to reason how that stone had skipped back and then he looked back again and the old man that seemed that he could barely walk was nowhere to be seen nor was he ever seen again around there. William did not understand how the old man had found his secret place; he had never seen anyone else there. Even though William was too small to fully understand what the man really meant he knew that no matter how hurt and sad he felt because his dad had left and he did not know when he was going to see or hug him again he knew that he couldn’t stay sad forever. William hugged his sister, gave her a kiss on her forehead, took her by the hand and walked home keeping in mind what the mysterious old man had told him on a strange day in July.
(Sammy Rincon)


UNDER THE RUG
Under the Rug
"Local couple found dead; zombie attack the likely cause," read the headline on the front page of the morning paper. Bob glazed over the headline; he was preoccupied with the bacon and eggs on the table before him. He recalled hearing something about "zombies" on the news last night; but how dangerous could zombies be, really? Nancy finished washing the pan she used to cook Bob his breakfast and she joined her husband at the table. They discussed their plans for that evening; it was their monthly date night and they planned on going out to dinner and then over to the new dance studio for Salsa lessons. Bob was, of course, less than thrilled but he knew Nancy had been looking forward to this for weeks, so he would suck it up and try to enjoy himself. The couple wrapped up their conversation and placed their used plates and coffee cups in the sink. As per their morning routine, they walked out to the garage, kissed each other goodbye, and drove their separate ways to work. Bob toiled away at the office; he was a partner at his father’s law firm and would eventually take over the practice. He met with several clients throughout the day, went to lunch with some friends from the law firm two floors down, attended an afternoon meeting, and then headed home half past five o’clock—he didn’t want to be late for Nancy’s seven o’clock dinner reservations. As soon as Bob began to climb the stairs to go change in their bedroom, he noticed an odd bump in the middle of the living room; almost like a rock beneath the carpet. He went over to inspect the oddity, with caution of course, and found that it was slightly moving, almost like a flexing fist. Bob remembered he had seen something like this before, back when he and Nancy lived in their first place together, that cramped basement apartment. Bob immediately thought back to the headline in the paper that morning that he paid little attention to, "Local couple found dead; zombie attack the likely cause." Once again, Bob shrugged off the danger; they had a small zombie-problem in the past but it eventually went away. He started back up the stairs to the room, gave Nancy a kiss, and got showered and dressed for their date. The couple left the house at six-thirty so they wouldn’t have to rush to their reservations downtown. Date night turned out to be a success, and Bob actually enjoyed the Salsa lessons; best of all, Nancy was happy. As Bob drifted off to sleep that night, he couldn’t help thinking about that bump in the living room; it was gone when they returned from their date but it was rather curious that it was there in the first place. Hopefully the zombies wandered off somewhere else because those pesky zombies are innocent enough until they push up through your carpet and eat your brain while you’re sleeping! Two weeks passed and it happened again…
(GILBERT FELIX)

Mr. Linden’s Library
It was finally summer and Martha was excited about visiting her grandpa, Mr. Linden. The last time she had been there she was only 6 years old, now she was 10 years old. It had been a four years since she had seen her grandpa, and she was thrilled at the idea of spending time with her grandpa, as well as exploring his old house once again like she always did. This time only her mother and she would be going on that airplane flight all the way to Indiana. The day finally came, Martha with her mother now headed toward Mr.Linden’s home. Seeing her grandpa there waiting for them, brought back so many memories of when she would spend time with him as a little kid. The town where her grandpa lived was a little town, it didn’t have a lot of things, but everyone knew each other it was like a family and Martha liked this. On their ride to the ranch Martha couldn’t stop thinking about her grandpa’s library. As a kid she spent most of her time in there looking at all these different books. There was one book in particular that was kept way at the top of the bookshelf, she was never allowed to read it, and she couldn’t reach it either, but now things were different. Martha was now taller, and she knew she could easily get her hands on it some how, as long as no one was home. They finally arrived at the ranch, everything looked a lot smaller than what she remembered, maybe because she was little at the time. Her mother wanted to go into town to get some things, and asked Martha if she wanted to go, but she said she wanted to rest. The truth was that she couldn’t wait to get ahold of that book. As soon as they left she went into the library, and there it was, still as she remembered. She quickly grabbed a chair, and tried reaching for it, she actually able to get her hands on it. It was wrapped up in a red cloth, she unwrapped it and there was the book. There was not title to the book, but there were a lot of symbols on the cover that probably meant something. She opened the book and the first page said “Beware of the magic in this book. If you read it, it will take you to many unimaginable places.” She wasn’t sure now if she should read the book or not, because her grandpa had warned her about getting the book so many times. This was the moment she had been waiting for ever since she was a kid, and now she had it in front of her. She started reading, and reading more. She noticed she read far into the book, and soon she kind of started drifting off to sleep, she didn’t know what was happening. All of a sudden she was in another place. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or if something else had happened; she tried waking up but couldn’t; something was wrong. “He had warned her about the book, now it was too late.” (Guillermina Hernandez)

A strange day in July
Mom let Matthew and Sarah go outside in the back by the lake. During the Summer is when Matthew and Sarah were able to play and skip rocks. The weather started to heat up even more. Matthew started throwing, stones. He was getting better but as time passed Matthews stones started skipping back towards him. Sarah always looked up to her brother so she followed along. He tried over and over again and threw with all his might, but the third stone came skipping back. -Monique Tolbert

---